By Keigetsu CM Brown
What is this me
that walks across the
surface of the Earth?
Is it like a jar of pickles?
Is it like some statuette
sitting on the table
in the hallway?
I hear that this
particular me can speak.
I see that it can curl its
fingers around a pen and
write words that approximate
a thought.
“So” says another,
“What’s to worry?
Just breathe and
see what happens.”
“Oh no” says another,
“You must find the goal
across the field.
You must get.
For without getting
you are lost.
You are nothing.”
Okay then, I shall
be nothing. I will
float across the lake
with my face to the sky.
And from the surface
of the moving water
I, like a goose, shall honk.